


Break

by Michael_InThe_Bedroom



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Blood, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self Harm, Suicide Attempt, everything i write is sad, ham isn't ok, poor ham, thomas is worried and scared, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:29:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9315536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michael_InThe_Bedroom/pseuds/Michael_InThe_Bedroom
Summary: Poor Alexander. The great, magnificent Alexander, lowered down to this?





	

**Author's Note:**

> don't read if this triggers you

Alexander was typing away furiously at his laptop, trying to get all the thoughts whirling around in his brain out before he screamed. It was too much. The screaming in his head, he couldn't handle it. He had to get them out, out, out. It was the only way he could function. He had to get them out hehadtohehadtohehadto. He couldn't take a break, he didn't know how to take a break. He had to write. Before the words spilled out and he pushed everyone awayawayawayaway again. He couldn't push anyone else away. He'd already lost too much. The rain took it all away. Theraintheraintherain. Theraintookitallawayallawayallawayawayawayaway. He typed faster, words filling the screen faster than usual, and he didn't notice that the only words he'd been typing for the past hour were 'I can't' and 'make it stop' over and over.   
Poor Alexander. The great, magnificent Alexander, lowered down to this? He was a mess. An absolute mess. "There's no one to pick up the pieces now," the all-too-familiar voice taunts, "Thomas is gone, and he's not coming back. He's tired of having to pick up the pieces you leave behind. He never loved you. You break everything you touch." The voice laughed, high and cruel.   
Thomas was humming in the kitchen, swaying his hips to the beat of Medicine, and cooking pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes were Alex's favourite. Poor Tommy, he was completely oblivious of his boyfriend's suffering across the hall as he made the two of them breakfast. He flipped the pancakes, eyes closed as he hummed.   
Alex clutched his head, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Losing your mind..." The voice taunted, cackling. Alex wanted to scream. He wanted to cry, but all that came out was a strangled whine. He wanted to do something, anything. But, alas, he couldn't do anything. He sat there, curled up in a ball and pulling viciously on his hair. He needed something, anything to distract him. "C'mon, you know you want to do it...your little friend is in your desk drawer." The voice hissed, laughing. Alex opened the drawer with shaky hands, rummaging until he found it. A small, sharp razor. He hadn't touched it in ages. He promised he wouldn't do it. Hepromisedhepromisedhepromised. He promised he wouldn't do it HE PROMISEDHEPROMISEDHE- "Go ahead, do it. It's not like he's going to help you this time, anyways. He doesn't care!" It cackled. Alex sobbed quietly, pressing the sharp, biting metal to his wrist. He traced the vein gently, not enough to puncture it as he contemplated on whether or not to do it.   
"DO IT. DOITDOITDOIT. HE WON'T CARE, HE WON'T NOTICE. D O I T. " The voice screamed loudly. Alex whimpered, digging the razor into his arm and harshly ripping it across his wrist. He repeated this over and over, going deeper, deeper, deeper. His arms were a mess of red, tattered skin. The razor dangled from his shaking, bloodstained hands. Alex sobbed, curled up on the floor from where he'd fallen out of his chair as he curled up in a half-ball beside his chair. Maybe he could just die. His heart was beating against his chest, punctuating every pain-filled second with the stacatto of his hammering heartbeat. He couldn't breath.   
Nobody needed to know. Nobodyneededtoknow. He could just die right here nobodyneededtoknow.   
He'd finally be free nobodyneededtoknow. He'd be emptynobodyneededtoknow.

Thomas walked in the room, calling Alexander. "Lex? Breakfast, well it's more of a lunch now, is re-'Lex?" He stopped, not seeing his smaller boyfriend sitting at his desk. He looked around, screaming when he saw his boyfriend lying motionless, blood was pouring out of his wrists. A small, bloody razor was clutched in his small hand. "Alex! Oh my god Alex-" He cut himself off, rushing over to the desk and collapsing to his knees in front of him. He stared, tears dripping down his face. He picked Alex up carefully, rushing to the bathroom. 

He had to get Alex to the hospital, but he wouldn't make it there if Thomas didn't stop the bleeding.

Thomas quickly did everything he knew how to do, he put cold water on the cuts-God, there were so many-resisting the urge to cry harder when he saw how many there were. "Oh, Alex.."

Alex woke up in a hospital bed, his eyes drooping tiredly. He looked around, everything blurry as he blinked. It was too bright, why was it so bright? He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer. He faded into the blissful numbness of sleep.

 

When Alex woke up, actually woke up ,the first thing he felt was searing pain in his wrists. It felt like someone had drenched his arms in gasoline and lit them on fire. He opened his eyes, blinking slowly and turning his head, spotting....Thomas? "T-T-T-" He stuttered, his throat too dry and his tongue felt thick and heavy. Too heavy. Thomas jolted up, beautiful brown eyes wide. "Lex? Are....are you awake?" Alex turned his head slightly to get a better look at Thomas. God, he looked awful. If Thomas looked awful, how bad did Alex look? "So I'm-I'm assuming I'm not d-dead?" He choked out, smiling weakly up at Thomas.

"Alex..wh-what?" He stared at Alex. "No, you're not dead..why-" He cut himself off, looking at the smaller man. "Oh, Alex.." Alexander just sat there, staring at the ceiling. God, this was all his fault. Allmyfaultallmyfaultallmyfaulthehatesmemyfaultmyfaultmyfault- He couldn't breathe he needed to b re a t he- "-ex! you're not breathing, you need to breathe, okay?" Thomas said, his voice cutting through the fog that filled his brain. His voice was soft, gentle. Always gentle. Too gentle. He didn't deserve Thomas. He never deserved Thomas.

"I love you." Alex choked out, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. "I love you too, Alex. More than words can express. They weren't okay, but they would be. Everything would be okay.


End file.
